Sherlock: Vacancy
by UmbreonGal
Summary: This story takes place around 2016-2017 (post season 3). Watson and Mary have settled into a quiet, domestic life with their family and Sherlock is in search of a new assistant/partner.


Rain pelted down on the city. Droplets rolled off the red awning of the small sandwich shop and splashed onto the wet sidewalk below. The street lights and warmly lit buildings were distorted as water ran down the windows at the front of the restaurant. Chairs were neatly placed on the tables inside the building and the wooden floor had patches of moister from being mopped just minutes before. The kitchen light was off and the restaurant was oddly silent with the only exception being the shuffling of bills and the chime of coins as they were being taken from the register to be counted.

"Have a good night, Avery," the owner, Mr. Collins, called from behind the counter as he emptied the register from the day's earnings. He was a sturdy man with peppered hair and facial hair. His grey eyes showed many years of wisdom and endless kindness and understanding. "Stay dry."

"I'll try," the young woman responded as she pulled a blue hoodie over her head. She left her ponytail tucked inside so that it wouldn't annoy her when she pulled her hood up. "So, same time tomorrow?"

"I know you're eager to work, but we're not open as long on Sundays." He motioned to the door with a waving and limp hand. "I need to give the others a chance to wash the dishes after all."

Avery sighed, but smiled with a hint of pride. "Ok. Then when do you want me to come back?"

He looked up from the money he was counting and squinted at the ceiling as he thought. "Tuesday. That gives you three days off. Now go before it comes down harder."

Avery waved and stepped out of the store, the bell jingled as the door swung shut. She huddled underneath the awning as she pulled up her hood and checked for oncoming traffic before darting across the street and leaving a fading trail of splashes behind her. She reached the nearest bus stop and pulled the day's tips out of her pocket.

"Shit," she muttered. "It's not enough." It was a slow day to begin with and she spent most of the money she brought with on eating something other than kitchen scraps for her lunch. She wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes as she thought. The apartment building was five miles away; it would take her nearly two hours to reach it by foot. Avery hung her head. "I guess I have to walk." She looked forward started walking briskly, nearly breaking into a sprint at some point.

Her shoes and socks were soaked within a few blocks and her clothes drew heavy with moisture. The rain and the splatter from passing vehicles did not help matters. As much as she wanted to stick to the main roads, desperation drove her to the alleys in the hope that it would be faster. She squeezed through gaps in fences and climbed over trash bins to get other others. She finally reached the building. The paint was chipping and grey with being exposed to the elements as well as poor upkeep. The windows were hardly windows since plywood and cardboard covered them. It wasn't a pleasant place, but it was the only place Avery could stay with little cost to her. She ran up the front steps and took shelter in the shallow doorway. She tried to wipe the water from her now wrinkled hands onto her pants and firmly grasped the knob so her hand wouldn't slip from her shivering.

"Finally," Avery huffed as she turned the knob only to have it refuse. She tried again and again, kicking the door in defeat as she flumped down on to the concrete stairs. She squinted as she saw a garbage bag at the bottom of the star case. "Oh, please don't be what I think you are." Avery rushed down the steps and scooped the wet bag into her hand. She untied the bag and found her belongings, a few articles of clothing and a travel-worn, hardcover notebook, shoved inside. "For the love of… Dammit!" It was gone, three months of earnings and tips were gone along with the coffee can she stored it in. Her phone, though useless in this country, was gone as well. Avery was grateful for the rain as it hid her tears of frustration.

She trudged to the street with her garbage bag slung over her shoulder and found a bus shelter a few block down the street. Avery sat down, her body trembling from the cold and aggravation.

"Bastards probably spent it on heroine or something…" she grumbled.

She managed to stop shiver since the shelter was slightly warmer then the surrounding area. After about fifteen minutes she got up and moved on. She hurried back to the restaurant since she couldn't think of anywhere else to go. Avery practical ran the entire time. The streets were empty so she quickly made progress. The restaurant had long since closed and Mr. Collins had left for the night. She took shelter in the doorway of the restaurant. There she stood as she tried to think of her next step.

That's when she heard it; a violin. Avery didn't recognize the melody, but it was pleasant. She stepped out from the doorway and looked towards the source of the music. The windows were bright on the second floor of the small apartment building next door. She hurried to the door and pounded on the door with her fist. The knocker bounced with each strike.

"Mrs. Hudson!" an annoyed man's voice shouted. There was a pause, but Avery didn't stop knocking. "Mrs. Hudson!"

She didn't stop and nearly hit an older woman in a robe in the face as the door swung open. Her hair was short, and a dirty blonde. It was fairly obvious that she was woken up. The woman's eyes were wide as she looked at the strange, wet young woman in standing in her door way with a garbage bag in clasped in her hand.

"I…I'm sorry," Avery sputtered as she turned away.

"No, no dear," a hand touched her shoulder. "Come in. I'll make you some tea. You're soaked to the bone."

Avery nodded quickly. "Thank you."

Mrs. Hudson lead her past a stair way an into a small kitchen. The stove, sink, fridge and cabinets lined one side of the room and a small, two person table sat on the other side. The woman hurried and filled the kettle and put it on the stove to boil. Avery took the opportunity to remove her soaked shoes.

"Come, come get those clothes off. I'm sure you want to look somewhat presentable when you talk to Mr. Holmes."

"What? Oh, no. I just…I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"That's usually the case, dear. Let's get you into the bath and some dry clothes you can talk to him in the morning." Mrs. Hudson took to the bathroom further back in the unit. "Just put your clothes in the basket and I'll get something dry for you."

"I have some clothes," Avery stated as she held up the garbage bag.

"Oh." Her tone was flat with a hint of pity and disgust. "Give those to me. I'll was them with the others. Now get in the bath. Take your time."

How could she refuse? Especially after waking her up at such an hour. Avery stepped into the bathroom and started running the water after plugging the drain. She peeled off her wet clothes and dropped them into a wicker basket that sat beside the door. She stepped into the tub and settled down into the hot water. She sat there and took in the warmth.

There was a knock on the door. "I'm going to leave a change of clothes out here for you, dear. You can use the towels that are in there already. Just put them in the basket with your clothes."

"Thank you," Avery responded. She sat in the warm water for a few more minutes before quickly washing her hair and the rest of her body. She stepped out and started drying off. She wrapped herself in the towel and opened the door to take the clothes that the kind woman had left for her. Avery smiled and laughed quietly to herself as she held the night gown in front of her. She dropped the towel and quickly pulled the gown over her head. She pulled her hair out ad wrapped it in the towel before finally stepping out of the bathroom.

"Are you hungry?" Mrs. Hudson asked as Avery walked back to the kitchen. There was a hot mug of water waiting on the table. "Oh, I didn't know what you liked, so I waited for you to get out of the bath."

"Earl Grey is fine," Avery said as she sat down at the table.

"Do you want milk?"

"I'll drink it straight."

Mrs. Hudson nodded and took a tea bag from one of the cabinets and plopped it into the mug. Avery held the mug in her hands as she just tried to absorb the warmth. She yawned and started sipping the tea after a few minutes.

"I don't have a second bedroom on this level, dear."

"Avery," she said.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and gave a small nod. "I hope you don't mind sleeping on the couch."

"It's fine," Avery said. She slept on a paper thin futon mattress before. Anything with support would be heaven. She finished her tea within thirty minutes and Ms. Hudson took her to the small living room. It was a quaint room. Floral patterned furniture sat in the room with knitted blankets covering them. There were wooden end-tables and shelves that held various memorabilia from the woman's life. The couch had a pillow and a quilt placed on it.

"Your clothes should be ready by the time you wake up," Mrs. Hudson stated as she fluffed the pillow and placed it against one of the arms. "If you need anything just let me know."

"Thank you."

Mrs. Hudson just smiled and returned to her room and left the door open by a hair. Avery sat down on the couch and moved the pillow to the other arm. She laid on her left and unfolded the quilt and kicked the fabric so that it covered her. She curled up slightly to avoid the discomfort of having her feet hang off the side of the couch. Avery snuggled her face into the pillow and closed her eyes.

Morning came too soon. But waking up wasn't unpleasant for once. The room was softly lit by the dim sunlight coming through the curtains. Avery tried to go back to sleep, but her internal clock argued otherwise. She sat up in defeat and saw some of her clothes neatly folded and stacked on the chair with her journal on top of it. A note was written on a piece of paper 'Leave the gown in the basket in the bathroom.'. Avery quickly changed into the outfit that Ms. Hudson had left out – white collared shirt, burgundy sweater vest, and her pair of brown corduroy pants - and took the ponytail holder off of her wrist to pull her hair back. When she felt presentable she folded up the quilt and placed it on the chair before she made her way to the kitchen where Mrs. Hudson was busy putting a tray together.

"Good morning," she said quietly, as not to startle the woman.

"Good morning, Avery," she paused from putting the tray together. "I'll get your plate together in a moment; I just have to run this upstairs."

"I can do it," Avery offered. "It's the least I can do."

"Very well then." She finished the plate and placed a small tea pot and matching cup and saucer on the tray. "Be careful."

"I can handle it," Avery assured her as she lifted the tray with ease and left the unit. She carefully made her way up the stairs, the dishes barely budging as she did. The door was wide open and she saw the cluttered desk and a wall that was littered with notes, photos and what appeared to be bullet holes. Her neck hairs stood on end and her eyes widened as a gun was fired off.

"You didn't flinch," a tall, thin man stated as he stepped away from the fire place. He held a police standard gun in his hand. He wore a long, navy blue robe over a white, collared shirt and a pair of black trousers. His hair was a curled mess on top of his head.

"I brought you breakfast," she stated as she stepped into the apartment. She scanned the room and found that nearly every flat surface was taken by computers, papers, and chemistry beakers. The only exception was a coffee table. She carefully put the tray down.

"What brings you here Avery Beckett?" He looked up from the gun and looked at her with his blue eyes. "Oh, don't look so surprised," he said as she raised an eye brow. "You work as a waitress at Speedy's. Though you wash dishes during the rush since you are working here illegally." He walked over and poured himself some tea.

"How?"

"Your accent has faded," he said, completely ignoring her question. "You must have been here for at least a few months." He looked at her again. "You haven't died your hair. Your roots show that you haven't done so for at least eleven weeks. You do it yourself?"

"Yeah."

He sipped the tea and nodded. "Auburn suits you, you think, more than brown. Your speech suggests you're from the states, namely the Midwestern region." He looked at her again. "One of your parents is former military judging by your stance. In addition you didn't flinch at the gunshot so you must be used to the sound. You must be from an area where it was a common occurrence. You've also gone through some sort of self defense training since you won't take your eyes off of me. I must say, your resume is somewhat impressive; a bachelors in English with a minor in criminal forensics. You also took up fencing during university and graduated from the University of Iowa with high honors." He sipped his tea again and placed it back on the tray. "Do you believe in fate, Miss Beckett?"

"No," Avery stated.

"Good," he said as he clapped his hands together with a twinkle in his eye. "We leave in twenty minutes."

"Wait, what?"

"We have a case, Miss Beckett. Dress warmly, it's a bit chilled from the rain."


End file.
